A Perfect Problem
by Satipheen
Summary: After a decidedly disastrous introduction Peter is horrified to discover that one certain girl has somehow wound up in Narnia as well. She's utterly useless, drives Peter mad most the times, but just maybe will she be able to save Peter from himself? Or will another encroaching darkness altogether get to them first? Peter/OC. Set during PC. Formerly called 'Clash of Fire'
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer; I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia

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><p><span>Chapter One;<span>

Peter staggered back, his back colliding with the harsh brick wall as pain bloomed across his jaw.

Peter wiped the dribble of blood away with his sleeve as he glared darkly at the leering face of the boy towering before him.

The jeering crowd shouted incentives and insults from the side-lines, their faces having long blurred into one indistinguishable wall.

"Had enough yet?" the boy spat.

Peter's lips twisted in an ugly smirk as he lunged forward.

"Peter Pevensie! James Berrington!"

Both boys immediately broke apart, glowering at one another menacingly for another stubborn moment.

Mr Wilson approached, pushing past the fast dissipating crowd until he stood before them, arms folded angrily across his broad chest in his usual smart tweed jacket.

"Fighting – on school property again," Mr Wilson boomed, his expression absolutely livid.

"He started it," James mumbled under his breath.

Peter whipped around to face him, his eyes crackling like blue lightening, "you liar!" Peter accused suddenly.

James immediately rounded on Peter and for a moment it seemed as if the fight would recommence until…

"ENOUGH!" Mr Wilson's voice was like thunder reverberating in the two boys' ears.

"Headmaster Andrews office now!" Mr Wilson ordered, stepping to the side as his arm snapped out from his side into a rigid line perpendicular to his body, finger outstretched towards the school building a few yards away, as he glared at the two boys in cold silent fury.

Silently and with many dark looks both boys trudged up the stone steps to the school building, Mr Wilson marching behind them.

There were hushed whispers and sniggers as the two boys passed by in cold silence, uniforms dirtied and crumpled until a stern look from Mr Wilson had the culprits scuttling.

Peter clenched his jaw tighter as he thrust his chin in the air as he walked, his back straight and rigid.

He had no need to feel ashamed or belittled; he was High King Peter the Magnificent.

He had led armies to legendary battles; he was a King!

Why should he have to suffer the insults and jibes of those clearly beneath him?

However one face gave him pause as he met the familiar dark eyes already giving him a disapproving look.

Peter stifled a sigh as he passed by Edmund and caught his younger brother's almost imperceptible shake of his head.

Usually Edmund supported him when he got himself embroiled in these pointless fights, even jumped in to help him on occasion despite Peter never requiring his help.

But Edmund usually only acted out of brotherly concern in seeing his brother facing off opponents twice his stature alone rather than he actually supported Peter's reasons.

Mr Wilson marched them both into the old office.

Headmaster Andrews was a wisp of a man made to look only more tiny by the huge mahogany desk he sat behind and the grand leather armchair he was swamped in.

But his eyes were shrewd and his face wore a perpetually sour expression.

"Pardon me Sir for excusing you from your work but I caught these two fighting on school property, _again," _Mr Wilson finished meaningfully, directing a particularly malevolent look towards the two boys.

Peter stood proud, shoulders squared as he returned Mr Wilson's glare with a cool aloof stare of his own.

James was meanwhile snivelling and attempting to look contrite as the Headmaster eyed them distastefully.

Peter had to resist the urge to lash out again; seriously all these glares and demeaning looks as though _he _were beneath _them?!_

"Thank-you Mr Wilson," Headmaster Andrews intoned pointedly in that raspy voice of his.

Mr Wilson clearly did not like being so evidently dismissed, clearly he had hoped to stay and see the boy's punishment dished out to them.

It had after all been Mr Wilson who had caught them fighting last time; though there had been more boys involved.

He had received quite the black eye when he had tried to separate the boys but in the fray he couldn't be sure which of them had dealt him the punch and no one had been eager to claim responsibility.

As such the square-jawed teacher had developed a particular dislike for the boys involved but especially for Peter Pevensie.

Mr Wilson was as teachers went a particularly terrifying specimen. Towering at over six foot and being an ex-military Lieutenant he was used to boys stammering around him as they stood to attention.

What he wasn't used to and what he most certainly didn't like was Peter Pevensie.

Peter never cowered like his classmates in front of Mr Wilson or Lieutenant Wilson as he was officially called.

Peter would merely tilt his chin slightly upwards fixing the imposing man with a cool cobalt stare, inclining one eyebrow.

And what was even worse was Peter wasn't like some others who would backtalk to him.

Peter was painfully polite, impeccably courteous and yet still Mr Wilson couldn't help but feel inferior to this…this mere – _boy!_

Reluctantly Mr Wilson with one last directed glare exited the room, shutting the door with an audible thud.

There was a brief moment when the Lieutenant's voice could be heard booming, as he ordered some groups loitering outside to scatter and then all was silent in the office.

"Well Pevensie? Berrington? – What have you to say for yourselves?" Headmaster Andrews rasped into the silent room; the portraits of past Headmasters staring down solemnly at the proceedings from the walls.

"I apologise Sir for my unacceptable behaviour," James immediately mumbled, dropping his gaze to the worn floorboards.

Headmaster Andrews nodded his head sagely, before he fixed an expectant gaze on Peter.

"I apologise that James' behaviour necessitated such behaviour Sir," Peter spoke coolly.

James' brows knitted together in barely constrained anger kept only under control because of the man sat facing them.

Peter could feel James' gaze burning holes in him but he kept his gaze trained on Headmaster Andrews.

Headmaster Andrews' face immediately contorted in fury, his upper lip curling in a sneer.

"Well Mr Pevensie you may return home and remain home until you learn to behave as befits a young civilised gentleman and not a brazen petulant whelp," Headmaster Andrews' voice was filled with deadly vehemence despite its hoarseness.

Peter felt anger rise in him in a red hot spike, his pride bristled and poked at as his eyes flashed dangerously.

"You as well Mr Berrington. Both of you are henceforth suspended until further notice taking effect immediately," Headmaster Andrews seemed to collapse back into the leather armchair, breathing heavily; wheezing breaths rattling out of his aged body.

"B-but Sir…?!" James immediately began to protest, his eyes wide with alarm.

"You are both dismissed," Headmaster Andrews' announced shortly and callously.

James stared for a moment more in open-mouthed shock.

But Peter didn't wait; he wouldn't demean himself to try and beg for Headmaster Andrews to reconsider.

Peter turned on his heel sharply, stalking from the room with blazing eyes.

He had barely made it three strides down the now deserted corridor before he felt himself unceremoniously hauled back by his collar and slammed back into the brick wall.

James Berrington's face loomed over him for a moment; storm grey eyes and face covered in a multitude of freckles with a mop of flame red hair that fell into his eyes.

James smashed a thick arm against Peter's throat.

However before Peter even had a chance to react James' face was gone from before him and the hold against him vanished.

James staggered slightly before he steadied himself against the opposite wall.

"Edmund Pevensie!" James spat vehemently as he eyed Edmund standing beside Peter.

"I should have known – brothers in arms," James sneered.

Edmund immediately went to Peter's side reaching out a supporting hand, concern clear on his face.

Peter shrugged off the brotherly hand, actually directing a fierce glare towards Edmund which was met with much confusion.

"You'll pay for this," James threatened darkly as he glared directly at Peter.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Go home James."

Edmund sighed tiredly for his brother's voice wasn't conciliatory in an attempt to avoid another fight but rather it was condescending combined with Peter's look of superiority completed the act.

It seemed High King Peter the Magnificent was making another appearance.

James looked like he was going to attempt another round and Edmund shifted slightly hoping to intervene before things got out of hand.

"For God's sake, Peter leave it!" Edmund half-pleaded exasperated and annoyed in equal measures.

However any altercation was actually averted by the chime of the clock announcing the end of the school day.

The doorways along the hall immediately sprang open, loud and raucous chatter and laughter rose to the very roof beams, the thunder of footsteps as crowds of young boys spilled out into the hallway.

James was swiftly lost amongst the stream of countless people and Edmund hastily jostled Peter along down the corridor.

The Pevensie brothers as much carried along by the current of bodies all heading in the same direction spilled out the front doors of the school and into the weak October sun and chilled air.

"Here," Edmund muttered, shoving Peter's coat and satchel into his hands.

Peter accepted them, shrugging on the school colours blazer before slinging his book-bag over his shoulder.

They walked in silence for a few moments; Edmund glancing out of the side of his eye at Peter while Peter brooded silently.

"So what was the damage?" Edmund finally asked after they had managed to disentangle themselves from the throng of boys all spilling out the school gates.

The corners of Peter's lips lifted in a smug grin, "I thought you would have seen the black eye James was wearing," Peter replied.

Edmund rolled his eyes, "I meant with the old goat Andrews?" Edmund clarified.

Peter's expression immediately darkened, the muscles bunching in his jaw visible as he offered no answer.

Edmund sighed thinking how he might possibly have to beat the answer out of his stubborn elder brother; though knowing Peter he would certainly put up a fight to retain it.

"They're all imbeciles," Peter suddenly spat vehemently, so much so that Edmund frowned deeply, troubled at his brother's words.

He had known that Peter was becoming more and more frustrated as the days passed. They had been mere children when the war had begun but now as they got older and more of their friends enlisted for the on-going war, many of them lying about their ages Edmund could see the restlessness grow in his brother.

Longing for a time when he would go off to battle to defend all that he loved, for the thrill of the fight, the recognition that he had been so used to receiving, the praise and the glory.

Steadily the fights had become more frequent; Edmund didn't know if it was Peter trying to look for something in them, or whether he was still clinging to what he had once been, unable to relinquish it and behave like the boy that he was supposed to be.

Peter began to speak of Narnia more then, but the wistful tone and fond smile had that he had begun with had slowly been replaced with clenched fists and bitter impatience.

Edmund and Peter turned down onto the familiar street leading to the train station and Edmund out of the corner of his eye caught Peter rubbing at his jaw with a slight wince.

"Is it bad?" Edmund said trying to crane in a look.

"Alright Mother Hen," Peter waved a dismissive hand airily, "it's nothing."

Edmund furrowed his brow but said nothing, he didn't need to. He could already see the blossoming red and purple on the curve of Peter's jaw along with the slight swelling.

Peter would no doubt refuse any treatment offered, forever insisting that he had endured worse.

For one who proved that he had a sharp mind and extensive intelligence as evidenced by the Golden Years of his rule as High King Peter where he had overseen many diplomatic trade agreements, unions with other lands, victorious battle strategies, just rulings…Peter could display some very severe bouts of pig-headed stubbornness and arrogant pride that led him to behave like a conceited fool and make idiotic decisions.

The only problem Edmund considered, was that such behaviour was becoming a more and more common occurrence with Peter.

"So what did Andrews say? – what is your punishment?" Edmund pressed.

Peter scowled at him over his shoulder as they entered the train station.

Any conversation swiftly became impossible in the following minutes as the brothers fought their way through the crowds to buy their tickets and then go to their usual spot to meet the girls.

As soon as they reached the familiar bench Peter slung his bag off his shoulder, dropping it carelessly onto the platform beside the bench.

"Come on Peter – you're going to have to tell me sometime!"

"Oh really? I don't see how it is any of your business!"

"My bus…?! Of course it's my business – you're my brother!"

Peter rolled his eyes skyward for a moment as he exhaled noisily through his nose.

"I got suspended Ed alright!"

"You got what! – Mum is going to kill you!" Peter groaned as Susan stood before him, looking down at him in annoyance, her brows drawn down in fierce disapproval.

"What's happened?" Lucy appeared at Susan's side, her gaze flitting between her brothers expectantly.

Edmund glanced to Peter briefly before answering her.

"Peter got suspended for fighting with James Berrington again on school grounds."

"What on earth were you thinking Peter?!" Susan exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.

Peter stood abruptly, brushing past Susan to walk a few spaces and gain some distance between himself and his siblings.

Peter looked forward unseeing as a bitter taste rose in his mouth.

How could his siblings walk about these streets seamlessly melting once more into life in England?

They were royalty; kings and queens of legends that saved a whole kingdom from the tyranny of the White Witch!

War was raging all around him and he was stuck trading punches with idiots like James Berrington.

Every insult or passing joke was like a personal jibe at his uselessness in this world. Little did Peter realise or want to acknowledge that he attracted such unwelcome attention because of his own insistence to behave so superiorly to those around him.

"Peter!" snapping his head around at the call of his name Peter had his bag shoved once more roughly into his hand from Edmund.

Edmund nodded towards the train that stood waiting, passengers huddling though the narrow doorways in shuffling crowds.

Sighing Peter grabbed that blasted satchel and joined the monotonous moving to board the train.

Once aboard the crowds meant they were only able to secure two seats; which both brothers gave up to their sisters.

Lucy looked up concernedly at her eldest brother, worry in her gaze as she eyed the bruise beginning to colour the angle of his jaw.

Peter caught her anxious look and smiled kindly at her, flicking her nose playfully. Lucy grinned back at him.

"Don't worry Lu, I've had much worse," Peter reassured.

Edmund rolled his eyes; predictable he thought.

Susan was not so silent in her disapproval, "that is beside the point Peter! What are you going to tell mum when you get back – after you promised her no more fighting?!"

Peter rolled his eyes as he ground his teeth together in poorly concealed frustration.

"You make it sound as though I _planned _to get into a fight today Susan!" Peter retorted.

"You make it sound as though fighting were your only option!"

"Oh I forget," Peter bit sarcastically, "you would have _me _swallow every insult."

Susan turned her head away immediately as she gave a bitter laugh before she spoke, "everyone that so much as looks at you insults you Peter!"

"Well Susan…"

"Stop it!" Lucy cried suddenly.

The two fighting elder siblings fell silent, both looking suitably chastised at least.

"Lucy's right this isn't helping anything," Edmund stepped in quietly, his reproving gaze lingering longest on Peter.

"You will have to tell mum though Peter," Edmund reiterated.

Peter sighed deeply as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, "I know," he admitted quietly.

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><p>I realise Peter may seem a bit OTT in his character but I just wanted to stress this from the beginning.<p>

Constructive criticism/ love it / hate it etc. – Drop me a review letting me know what you think? :)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two;

The four Pevensie children spilled into the hallway of their home, rubbing together chilled hands as coats were shrugged off and hung up.

"Oh good children you're home, I…Peter! What happened to your face?" Helen Pevensie immediately went to her eldest son, her face full of concern, eyes crinkled with worry as she raised a hand gingerly to hover over the swollen bruise on Peter's jaw.

Susan arched an expectant brow at Peter nodding meaningfully towards their mother.

Lucy chewed on her bottom lip nervously as Edmund watched the proceedings warily.

Peter looked over his mother's shoulder at his evidently waiting and expectant siblings.

Peter clenched his jaw tightly ignoring the twinge of tender pain at the action as he narrowed his eyes at them.

He hated being cornered into anything; he was a King and as such would make his decisions on when to take action when he saw fit.

But Peter read the look of Susan's face; if he didn't tell their mother now she would.

Peter glared darkly at her before returning his gaze back to their mother.

"Mum I have got something to tell you," Peter began slowly and reluctantly.

Susan scoffed irascibly as she rolled her eyes.

Their mother glanced over her shoulder, taking in the tense poses of her three younger children before looking warily to Peter once more, a dreaded suspicion in her eyes.

"Come on Susan, Lu," Edmund called pointedly, holding the door to the living room open and gesturing for his sisters to go on in.

Susan hesitated for a moment before relenting, clearly washing her hands of the situation; it was Peter's problem now.

Lucy followed her after flashing Peter a troubled smile.

Edmund nodded once in acknowledgement to Peter's grateful look before he too turned and went into the living room, shutting the door after him.

Helen Pevensie looked up to her son, waiting reluctantly for what she now knew was coming.

"Mum…I got into a fight today at school," Peter confessed quietly, his gaze trained on the small stretch of ground between them.

Helen sighed heavily and no sound made Peter feel more guilty.

"Peter…" she began tiredly. "I've told you time and time again to just ignore them."

Peter shuffled from foot to foot awkwardly for a silent moment before he took a deep breath, glancing up to make sure she was ready for the rest.

"Mr Wilson caught me fighting…"

"Lieutenant Wilson you mean?" his mother interrupted.

"Yes," Peter confirmed less than enthusiastically.

"Oh Peter!" Helen exclaimed, "Lieutenant Wilson is such a good man!"

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "of course it was straight to Headmaster Andrews office…" Peter looked up, pausing for a considerable moment.

Helen Pevensie nodded, encouraging him to finish his tale.

"Go on Peter," she urged.

Peter sighed, "he suspended me indefinitely."

Helen Pevensie's eyes closed as she let out a long wavering breath, "oh Peter what have you done?" she breathed quietly.

She sighed, "Who was it this time?"

Peter rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, "James Berrington," he grumbled under his breath.

His mother's frown deepened considerably when she heard the name, "again?" she questioned sternly; though it was more a statement than a question.

It was Peter's turn to sigh, "Mum you don't understand – he provoked me!"

"No you're right – I don't understand Peter. I don't understand why my intelligent young son seems to do nothing but fight these days!" his mother's voice wavered and when Peter looked up he could see the unshed tears swimming in his mother's eyes.

"Mum…" Peter began softly.

"No Peter! Now you will go over to the Berrington's house and you will apologise to James and put this silly feud to bed once and for all!"

"What? Mum – you…you can't be serious!?"

"Peter Pevensie I am deadly serious. Now…" Helen Pevensie's hand shot out as she seized the collar of his once crisp white shirt now dirtied and spotted with blood; James' after Peter had most likely knocked out one of his teeth.

"Change your clothes and then you are to go straight over to the Berrington's house and apologise to James."

Peter stared at his mother agape. Go – to the _Berrington's _house; _apologise to James._

"But mum," Peter gave an incredulous laugh that held no humour, "I did nothing wrong!"

"I don't care Peter. I want this fighting to stop once and for all. You _will_ go over to the Berrington's – and you _will_ apologise to James. Am I understood young man?" his mother's tone was one of the sternest she had ever used with him, a fierce light in her eyes.

Peter ground his teeth together, his shoulders and back completely rigid, "Yes," Peter ground the word out with a lot of difficulty.

Helen Pevensie sighed as she nodded, "good," and her expression melted into one of motherly concern and gentle reproach.

"I only want what's best for you Peter," she told him quietly.

Peter nodded stiffly as his mother gave him a small sympathetic smile; resigned to the fact that he would not be best pleased with what she was forcing him to do.

…

Peter tore through his room like a hurricane and with the noise of one too as he angrily stomped across the floorboards, tearing open the doors of his wardrobe to tear out a new shirt at random.

Just as he was finishing buttoning up the buttons of his shirt there was a hesitant rap at his bedroom door followed by someone sticking their head in the now slightly ajar door.

Edmund eyed Peter curiously before Peter snapped at him.

"I have to go apologise – to _him!"_

"Who?"

Peter glowered at Edmund for a moment, "James Berrington! – Keep up Ed!" Peter berated.

Edmund shook his head, a wary look in his eyes, "do you think that's such a good idea Peter?"

"It's not my idea!" Peter balked, "do you really think I would apologise to James Berrington of all people?! No…it's mum, she says it will stop the fighting once and for all."

"So you've told her then? – About being suspended I mean?"

"Oh well done Ed, you certainly worked out that mystery," Peter mocked, as he brushed by Edmund and out of his room agitatedly, the door slamming in his exit.

Edmund ignored the bitter jibe as he followed Peter as the elder brother stormed down the stairs.

Susan was in the hall, giggling softly as she spoke in hushed tones, fingers toying with the coil of the telephone wire. She hurriedly ended the conversation, slamming the phone back into its cradle just as Peter and Edmund reached the bottom of the stairs.

Peter rolled his eyes; no doubt another of Susan's _friends. _

"Where are you going?" Susan demanded suddenly as Peter took his coat of the peg in the hall and donned it swiftly.

"I'm going to apologise to James Berrington, the boy I was fighting with today and got suspended for," Peter answered truthfully, as he hastily did the buttons up on his coat with an unnecessary violence.

Susan's full bottom lip protruded in a perturbed pout with a furrowed brow.

"I don't think that's a good idea Peter," Susan remarked seriously.

"Is this not what you wanted?" Peter accused her sharply.

Susan scoffed, turning quickly on her heel.

"Grow up Peter!" she called over her shoulder before she disappeared into the living room again.

Peter had the resist the urge to laugh outright at that; how many times had Susan been warning him to 'grow-down' and to act the age he was now in England and now…now she wanted him to 'grow-up'?!

Edmund sighed tiredly from his side, looking to Peter exasperated.

"Where's Lu?" Peter asked suddenly.

"Helping mum with dinner," Edmund answered immediately already starting to shrug on his coat.

Peter gave him a strange look, "what are you doing?"

"Going with you," Edmund answered casually.

Peter gave a short laugh, "No you're not Ed."

"Come on Peter! What if some of James' goons are there?"

"Well then I will take care of them myself," Peter answered confidently.

Edmund gave Peter a long look but the elder merely arched a brow at him fixing him with that cool cobalt stare that had become so common recently; that Peter used to shut out everyone without even knowing it, refusing to ask for help no matter what.

Edmund sighed in defeat as Peter turned sharply and walked out the door. Edmund didn't follow.

…

Peter made his way briskly along the streets; a frosty chill to the air. The shorter winter days meant less hours of light and as such the sky was already darkening.

Peter sighed irritably; apologising would do nothing but…his mother had asked him to and he said he would. And besides his mother hadn't specified what he had to apologise _for. _

Peter found the house easily; he only knew the address because he had seen it scrawled on a letter that had fallen on _his_ desk. Then James had the cheek to accuse Peter of snooping around in his belongings. That slight of course had not gone unpunished and it was the cause of one of many fights the boys had engaged in.

The house itself was cramped in a line of terraced houses with small square gardens.

Inhaling deeply in resignation once more Peter strode up to the door and knocked it firmly and sharply.

Inside a cacophony of sound burst alive that was audible even through the door; there was a scrabbling that was followed by a barking; _great,_ they have a dog Peter bemoaned.

A baby's wail shattered the air from somewhere in the house and then there was a hurried thumping as someone descended the stairs Peter assumed.

The door was torn open but it wasn't James as Peter was hoping, to get this over with as quickly as possible.

With one cursory look Peter acknowledged that she had to be at least James' sister; same flame red hair, face of freckles and slate grey eyes.

"Is James Berrington there?" Peter asked politely.

"No – he's out," she answered shortly.

"Do you have any idea when you expect him back?" Peter asked, warily eyeing the slavering dog that she was currently fighting to keep in the house, blocking its path with her legs alone.

"Wilson back – go! Shoo!" the girl hissed as she gave the dog a nudge back into the house with her leg.

Peter arched an amused brow. The dog was called _Wilson, _Peter wondered if it was coincidence.

The girl looked up again, "sorry he's just curious," she apologised with an easy smile, gesturing to the dog that despite her best attempts had its head wedged between her leg and the door, looking up at Peter with huge brown eyes and its red tongue lolling out to the side.

"Erm…no, I've no idea when Jimmy'll be back – I'll tell him you called if you want?" she suggested helpfully with another bright smile.

Peter sighed, this was just _perfect _he thought sourly.

"If you could tell him Peter Pevensie called," Peter said, not really paying attention to the girl and more concerned with the dog that seemed determined to knock the slight girl to the ground in its eagerness to get out.

"_Peter Pevensie?_"

Peter's gaze snapped up as he was taken aback by the cold vehemence in the girl's tone and the way her slate grey eyes narrowed, two red spots appearing on her cheeks.

Peter's brow furrowed in confusion, "yes. I'm Peter Pevensie," he confirmed, "can you tell James that I called I would…"

Peter never got to finish his words for at that moment something happened that Peter had most certainly not anticipated.

The harsh ground rose up to meet him swiftly, as pain ruptured once more across the overly tender spot on his jaw as a result of the punch the girl in front of him had just landed him.

What made it worse was that as he groaned in agony on the cold ground was that the next thing he felt was a wet slobbery muzzle nudging against his face.

Peter pushed the drooling dog away from him as he scrambled to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster.

Peter looked to her, his blue eyes blazing with anger and shock, his cheeks emblazoned red in embarrassment.

"You alright there Ella? This young lad here ain't causing you no bother is he?"

Peter whipped around indignantly to see an elder man with a weather beaten face and overalls paused at the bottom of the garden, his bright eyes flitting from concern for the girl to disdain as he looked at Peter.

"No, I'm fine don't worry Mr Bates – I can handle myself," the girl replied casually with a bright smile and a wave.

The man chuckled good-naturedly and easily returned the smile, before with one last wary glance directed at a fuming Peter he continued on his way down the street.

Peter returned his fierce glare back towards the girl who stood nonchalantly with a victorious smirk on her face.

If she was a boy…Peter let that thought trail off, she wasn't and so he could not in good conscience wipe that smirk from her face by returning her favour to him.

Peter rubbed a hand across the doubly tender spot now on his jaw, "why did you do that for?" Peter demanded through gritted teeth, a few locks of fair hair falling across his eyes.

An eyebrow shot up as the girl answered immediately, "That was for my twin! Do you know how many times I've had to fix Jimmy up after you and he have had a scrap?!" she demanded, folding her arms angrily across her chest.

Peter almost scoffed, he should have known – James Berrington's twin sister.

"Well I'm sure my sisters wouldn't dream of doing the same if your brother was to call at our door," Peter hissed at her, struggling to keep his composure because really it was frustrating when she was looking so damn smug and knowing there was little he could do about it.

"I'm not your sister though," she answered bluntly with a careless shrug.

Peter inhaled deeply as he straightened his spine, preparing to turn sharply on his heel.

High King Peter never ran away from a fight but he acknowledged that this was one he wasn't going to win and he would have liked to leave with as much of his dignity intact as possible, having just been floored by a girl a good head smaller than him

Now that he came to notice it…not only that but a wisp of a girl really; she was all gangly limbs, her clothes hanging off her as though they were a size too big.

Peter groaned inwardly; how on earth had had been floored by one punch from – _her?!_

It was the shock and surprise of it Peter hurriedly reasoned to soothe his wounded pride.

Peter offered her no other words and turned to leave, still being able to see that cloying smirk on her lips.

But then Peter paused as he found his way…barred.

Wilson, the great big oaf of a dog was lying across the path.

Peter was in no way going to attempt to step over it only for the dog to no doubt scramble to his feet and knock him to the ground. He had already been floored by a girl today, he wasn't about to add dog to the list.

Reluctantly and practically seething Peter turned his head stiffly, "call off your dog," he ordered.

"Ha!" she laughed in exclamation and Peter was able to just catch a flash of red hair before she disappeared back into the house shutting the door firmly after her.

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><p>Thanks to followers  & / favourites; Goalphabeticalorder, HungerGames100, KatDawn80 & bethsong.95 and especial thanks to bethsong.95 for reviewing! :D


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three;

The only possibly good thing about his disastrous encounter with James Berrington's twin sister was the fact that when she had punched him, she had landed her punch in exactly the same spot her brother had hit earlier that day.

Both of them had left hooks Peter realised bitterly.

As a result though it did mean that Peter didn't have to explain another bruise to his family; which he was thankful for.

He hadn't exactly lied to his mother; when she had asked him did he go to the Berrington's house, Peter had answered yes which technically wasn't a lie. He had gone to the house after all.

A relieved smile had broken across his mother's face as she looked at her son proudly.

Peter was palming a sheave of papers, sitting at his desk when Edmund entered the room silently.

"So…did you really do it? _Apologise _to James Berrington?" Edmund asked cautiously, though curiousity burned in his eyes and a smile tugged at his lips.

Peter rolled his eyes before looking to Edmund with a boyish grin, "of course not."

Edmund shook his head, "I suspected as much, what happened then?"

Peter grimaced slightly at the question; silently adamant that he would _not _be admitting to Edmund that he had been floored by James' Berrington's twin sister.

"I called to the house and he wasn't there," Peter remarked with a casual shrug.

Edmund looked at him sceptically, able to sense when Peter was omitting something and from the slightly agitated tenseness in Peter's rigid shoulders Edmund sensed there was more to it than that.

Peter could feel Edmund's suspicious gaze on him and it irked him; unwilling to admit the truth and yet uncomfortable under Edmund's knowing gaze.

"His sister answered the door," Peter added, forcing his tone to remain as casual as possible.

"His sister?" Edmund repeated questioning.

Peter ignored the spike of irritation; did Edmund really have to press on and on until he would have to admit his wounded pride?

"What is her name?" Edmund inquired, as he dropped himself onto the bed.

Edmund had merely been curious however Peter felt another rise of frustration; why was Edmund _still _focused on _her?!_

Peter just wanted to forget about that _incidence._

"What does it matter?!" Peter snapped.

Edmund looked over at Peter, his expression exasperated and annoyed in equal measures before he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood.

"Fine Peter," Edmund said quietly, though his tone was more tired than angry.

As soon as the door had shut after Edmund had left Peter sighed heavily.

In truth Peter regretted his sharp tone but he could not bring himself to seek out Edmund and admit it.

Wearily Peter got to his feet and went to the window watching as the first few raindrops struck the pane.

Recently his life had been becoming more troublesome with his growing impatience to return to the one place where he actually perceived he meant something.

He hated feeling useless; only being able to sit and listen to reports on the radio from the front.

He longed to be out there – fighting. He had skill – he was High King Peter! How many _boys _on the front line could say they were a king, had led great armies, won battles against great odds?

Frustration was putting it lightly Peter mused bitterly, and so with a troubled frown Peter decided to give up for the night and turned in.

…

"Peter?"

Peter moaned groggily, turning away from the insistent call and trying to shrug off the hand shaking his shoulder.

"Peter!"

Peter opened his eyes blearily to be met with Lucy's face, hovering above him.

When his sister saw his eyes open she sighed with relief and flashed him a brief smile, "mum says hurry and get ready or you'll be late," Lucy called as she leapt to her feet and disappeared out of the room before Peter could even think to reply.

Peter groaned as he turned again, running a hand through his dishevelled hair before he whipped the covers back and pushed himself up to lean on his elbows.

Blinking owlishly Peter moved about his room sluggishly and began the mundane routine of readying himself for the day.

It was only as Peter was reaching for his uniform that it suddenly occurred to him and his hand stilled mid-air…Headmaster Andrews had suspended him.

For a moment Peter stood still, unsure.

A sharp rap on his room door disrupted his thoughts and a moment later his mother popped her head through the slightly ajar door.

She smiled at him and nodded before stepping into the room.

"I'm suspended," Peter told her blankly, as he turned and instead of the familiar uniform he reached for his normal clothes.

"I want you to go to school today Peter."

Peter snapped his head around, his expression clearly showing his bafflement.

His mother stood with her hands folded, her expression calm.

"No…mum, I don't think you understand, I _can't _go to school – I am suspended," Peter repeated, raising a quizzical brow.

His mother inhaled a deep breath before she continued, "I know. I want you to go and apologise to Headmaster Andrews and Lieutenant Wilson. Hopefully they will realise that you are sorry and are lenient and allow you to come back to school. It would do no harm also to mention that you took the first steps in going to the Berrington's house and apologising to James."

Mrs Pevensie stood – waiting and sure enough it came within seconds of her instructions.

"Mum!" Peter exclaimed, gaping at her incredulously.

To go and apologise to James Berrington was one thing – to go and apologise to Headmaster Andrews _and _Lieutenant Wilson – to essentially _beg _them could he return to school.

Peter reined in his anger – barely, his eyes steely as the muscles in his jaw visibly twitched with the effort.

He _could __not _lower himself to do that.

Mrs Pevensie's face was saddened as she saw the evident anger in her eldest son's face.

She knew that she was being strict with him and she hated to be so. She respected that Peter had great pride and usually it was an honourable trait but the restlessness she had seen growing in her son was worrying her. She realised that Peter was approaching the age where she could not mother him anymore and demand he apologise to his teachers as though he were a little boy but leaving Peter to his own devices had proved unsuccessful. She did not know what it was that troubled Peter, it worried her to see that inconsequential spats between her children were becoming more common.

"Peter, you _will _do this," Mrs Pevensie forced her voice to be as authoritative and stern as she could make it.

Peter dropped his head, hiding his blazing cobalt gaze as he stiffly nodded. He could not refuse his mother, though he hated her decision.

…

"I thought you were suspended," Susan remarked as they approached the familiar train station.

Peter rolled his eyes, his hands dug in his pockets like weights as he trudged ahead of them.

When he didn't answer her Susan made to press him again for answers when Edmund nudged her silently and Susan relented.

She pursed her lips, looking at the back of Peter's head for a moment, "fine," she said shortly before she turned sharply away from them and started off in the opposite direction.

"Susan?!" Lucy called after her elder sister.

Susan paused at the edge of the path as the cars on the road bustled by on another busy morning.

"I'm just going over to the newspaper stand Lu. We're early anyway – and I'd prefer other company," Susan directed a look towards Peter.

Peter didn't rise to the bait though and instead walked on ahead and Susan darted across the road to the newspaper stand.

Lucy sighed, a little frustration seeping into the expletive as she became irked at her sibling's, more specifically her elder siblings' constant bickering.

It seemed all they did was fight amongst themselves these days; Peter with his pride, Susan drifting away from them even Edmund's patience had its limits.

"C'mon Lu, they'll come around."

Lucy glanced over her shoulder to see Edmund waiting for her, and with another heavy sigh they set off towards the train station again.

…

Peter weaved amongst the crowds in the train station; most in similar uniforms to his, a few home soldiers dotted amongst them – bitter reminders that here Peter was only one schoolboy in a whole crowd of many and not the king or soldier he had once been in Narnia.

Pushing the thought aside, Peter swiftly descended the flight of steps before him when suddenly he paused as a familiar voice sounded somewhere nearby.

And true enough when Peter looked up he saw James Berrington across the way with a few of his friends, leaning against the wall. He wasn't in his uniform, dressed in a frayed blue shirt and brown trousers with a cap pulled low over his eyes, his red hair sticking out from under it.

It was only a split second, but a second too long all the same.

James Berrington's grey eyes sharpened, his gaze zeroing in on Peter.

"Well, well, well…what have we here?" James pushed himself off the wall as he slowly approached Peter, a glint in his eyes.

Peter turned to face him, not letting any emotion flicker across his face.

"Why are you in school uniform?" James demanded as he scowled darkly at Peter.

"I don't have to answer to you," Peter told him, before turning sharply on his heel.

"No?! - You'll answer to my fists though!"

Only countless years of experience allowed Peter to react quickly enough and dodge James' swinging fist.

Propelled forward with the momentum James went crashing into the opposite wall.

James' group of friends looked on in hushed silence as James clumsily regained his footing, his face flushing a shade of red that rivalled that of his flame red hair.

Peter looked down on him; his look of calm composure only adding to James' humiliation.

And that was all it took as James lunged for Peter.

James bodily slammed Peter into the wall, however as he swung his fist back to aim for Peter's face Peter was swifter and he dealt James a sharp undercut punch to the jaw that had James staggering backwards.

His friends were there to catch his fall and helped him back on his feet. James sneered at Peter, blood and spittle coating his teeth, "get him."

Three boys immediately made to grab for him; Peter managed to dodge one as he landed a punch at the other. However the third succeeded in flooring him with a harsh knee to the gut.

Peter crumpled to the ground, gritting his teeth.

A fist suddenly slammed into the side of his face as James stood above and Peter hissed as his head collided painfully with the cold ground beneath him.

"Get up and fight Pevensie," one of them jeered.

A bleary look and Peter could see the four boys looming above him, James with a malevolent smirk on his face, nudging Peter with his foot, "come on Pete, what's the matter?" James sneered.

The crowd that had gathered swiftly at the prospect of a fight, shouted and cheered.

Peter didn't need the encouragement though, he took one look at James' smug look and he was on his feet in seconds, his fist slamming into James' face.

They were all on him again within moments and he gritted his teeth against the punches being rained down on him, the sly kicks to his shins. Peter was fighting fiercely, fists lashing out; some meeting their targets, others meeting nothing but air.

At one point he was shoved forward but before he could hit the steps at an alarming speed one of the boys had hauled him back by the collar.

For a split second Peter looked up and any fleeting feelings about the thrill of the fight or the grim satisfaction of feeling his fists connect with flesh vanished.

Lucy looked down at him, concern etched clearly upon her face while Susan already sent him a reproving look.

And then suddenly the hold around him was gone. Peter whipped around, deftly avoiding the fist that was being sent his way even as he threw his own.

He looked to see Edmund tackling one of James' friends, and pushed the spike of irritation he felt at the sight into the next punch he aimed.

The last thing Peter needed was Edmund getting in his way, he was more than capable of defending himself against some fools; he was a King!

The fight however was effectively ended when a few soldiers nearby and a conductor physically broke them up.

"Act your age," one of the soldiers said, as he forcibly shoved Peter on.

The remark riled Peter like nothing else; _act his age?!_

However before Peter could make a sharp retort Edmund jostled Peter along, up towards their waiting sisters and along the platform to their usual bench as the gathered crowds dissipated.

Peter forcibly dropped his bag on the bench as he tugged at his now ripped blazer uncomfortably.

"What was it this time?" Susan asked sharply.

Peter gritted his teeth, unwilling to argue with Susan…yet again.

"He knocked me," Peter lied.

"And you hit him?" Lucy exclaimed.

"No," Peter answered as he turned, "I asked him to apologise and when he refused I hit him."

Peter resolved that he was not going to mention that it was _James Berrington _– again that he was fighting with!

"Is it just so hard to walk away?" Susan said tiredly.

Peter bristled, "I shouldn't have to!" he answered sharply, his blue eyes flashing, "it's be a year already, how much longer does he expect us to wait?" a familiar bitter impatience seeping into his tone.

"Peter Pevensie?" at the sound of his full name from a less familiar voice Peter immediately snapped around and only narrowly missed gaping openly.

It was _her._

James Berrington's twin sister stood a metre away, dressed in a uniform identical to that of his sisters. She had her arms folded and a troubled look on her face.

"Can I talk to you privately for a moment?" she asked.

Peter looked at her completely baffled and more than a little wary; he was _not _going to approach her if her purpose was to punch him again for her brother, especially not here in the middle of the train station.

She and his siblings looked to him expectantly.

"It'll only be for a moment," she added encouragingly with a cautious smile, dropping the defensive stance of her crossed arms.

"Well go on then," Susan prompted Peter as he stood unmoving, still wary of the motives of the flame-haired girl.

Sighing and flexing his fingers, his knuckles stinging from the fight mere minutes ago Peter approached her.

She flashed a bright grateful smile at Susan just as Peter reached her.

"What is it?" Peter asked immediately.

"Erm…" the girl frowned as she eyed the purpled bruise on the curve of Peter's jaw, and she winced slightly.

"I saw the fight there now," she said, her eyes flickering back up to his.

Peter tried to discreetly edge away, convinced that she was going to seek some sort of retribution for her brother.

Peter said nothing, instead looking to her expectantly, waiting for the punch he was convinced was coming and carefully thinking of how he could avoid it.

"It wasn't fair," she said firmly, tilting her chin upwards.

Peter frowned slightly in confusion, "fair?"

"Jimmy – James I saw him; he started it," she dropped her gaze momentarily shaking her head, "and worse than that he didn't even fight fair – all those idiots jumping in," she trailed off, looking up at Peter again, a determined light in her grey eyes.

Peter was less wary of her now but in place of his suspicion he was growing more confused. What on earth was she trying to say?

"I'm sorry," she said, her gaze never once breaking.

"Sorry?" Peter repeated.

She nodded, "for hitting you," she elaborated, her eyes drifting once more to the purpled bruise.

Peter winced a little at the memory but more than anything else he was curious, "why are you apologising _now?_"

"Jimmy told me that the fight the other day – he said that you started it; that was why I hit you," she explained, "but now…" she trailed off, holding Peter's gaze.

"I didn't start the fight yesterday," Peter told her truthfully and she nodded with a small quirk of her lips as though she had expected as much.

As fights went Peter Pevensie found himself in most because of his aloof behaviour, imagined slights or because he refused to back down when provoked. It was the third of these that caused the most fights between James Berrington and Peter Pevensie.

James Berrington was known by all as being something of a bully; forever picking fights but never fighting fairly.

"I know that now. I asked Jimmy just there now after the fight – what had happened? I wanted to see what he would say," she gave him a sour smile, "he said you started it, but I saw what had happened," she sighed shaking her head again.

Peter felt a slight vindication at the apology but the feeling was greatly belied by the honest expression on the girl's face. She had gone out of her way to come and apologise to him – against her own brother. Despite the fact that he still wanted to feel wary of her, he felt a sort of respect for her.

"Why does it matter to you?" Peter asked her genuinely curious.

She blinked before she answered him as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "because it wasn't fair."

Peter sighed, feeling a smile tug at his lips despite it all, "I suppose not," Peter mused, "but…AH!" Peter flinched as the girl before him jumped startled.

"What is it?" she asked immediately.

"Peter!" he snapped his head around at Lucy's urgent call to see his three siblings standing with similar expressions on their faces.

"Hold hands," Susan suddenly instructed, just as Peter felt a wind that shouldn't exist in the underground train station pick up, whipping at his hair, a train speeding past them.

Peter made to move swiftly over to his siblings when something he didn't expect happened.

"AH! – What is happening?!" Peter snapped his head around at the cry.

She leapt forward, glancing around her wildly – her eyes wide as her red hair whipped about her face coming loose from its tying.

Peter glanced back to his siblings, who all having heard the girl's surprised shout quickly exchanged looks of confusion and shock.

Around them tiles began to come loose, crashing to the ground, posters encouraging boys and men to enlist were ripped from the walls into the oblivion beyond; a brightening light.

"What is happening?!" she demanded again, fear clear upon her face.

"Peter!" Lucy called almost frantically, holding out her hand.

With barely a conscious thought, Peter took Lucy's outstretched hand and reaching behind him he grabbed hers.

"What are you doing?" Edmund asked, looking to the red-haired girl, his dark hair whipping about his face as the tunnel started to collapse around them, pulled away by the passing train and the howling wind.

Peter glanced back, she was clutching his hand tightly, terrified and not understanding what was happening but comforted slightly that she seemed to not be alone.

And then the last blast of the train sounded in their ears before it faded and with it the train disappeared into nothing.

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><p><strong>AN: Apologies it took so long; exams etc but now my time is once more my own.**

**Thanks to all those who have favourite/&/followed Goalphabeticalorder, The Great Wizard Qui Quae Quod, HungerGamesQueen100. Kat Dawn80, abbzmay, NarnianLady14, MayDragon, Zora and Phoenix, DancerOfDanger, Amber and Ruby & BadWolfSonnets.**

**And especial thanks go to The Great Wizard Qui Quae Quod, DancerOfDanger, MayDragon & Amber and Ruby for their very kind reviews that encouraged me to continue :D**


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry, sorry, sorry that I nearly abandoned this story! A very late update…!

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><p><span>Chapter Four;<span>

Stepping forward almost in a daze Peter laughed brightly, his siblings mirroring his actions.

Narnia.

Frustration at uselessness and feelings of inadequacy faded away under the bright sunshine.

Replaced by visions of the life he could once more lead, able to protect all that he loved and upheld with honour – not just with his fists but with armies and battles.

Lucy laughed brightly first, not even sparing a glance before she raced for the blue waves that rushed upon the sand in giddy white-foamed crests.

"Wh – WAIT! What happened?" the confused cry sounded from behind them and Lucy halted in her race for the warm waters.

The four Pevensie children exchanged glances and long stares as James Berrington's twin sister came trudging towards them.

"Don't look so secretively at each other – where are we?!" her grey eyes were wide and stark with a mixture of fear and disbelief and she kept glancing over her shoulder as though she almost expected the train station to materialise out of nowhere.

"Well you grabbed her hand," Edmund muttered directing a pointed look to his older brother.

Peter cringed; what in Aslan's name had he been thinking? He hadn't really been thinking at all actually, it was a hasty impulse he was very swiftly coming to regret; dragging _James Berrington's twin sister _to Narnia!

But she had clearly felt the call too! – His thoughts reasoned rationally.

"Has everyone lost their voices?!" she cried impatiently throwing her arms up in the air.

Peter scowled at her, opening his mouth to make a sharp reply when another spoke across him.

"It's alright – don't be frightened. You're in Narnia," Lucy said with a reassuring smile stepping past him.

She looked at Lucy, brow creasing in confusion before she looked behind her hesitantly, "but…the train station – _how?_ Where? – _Narnia?_"

"Magic," Lucy replied happily which only made her eyebrows drift towards her hairline in poorly concealed surprise.

"_Magic?_" she repeated flatly, staring suspiciously at Lucy as though she were mad.

"Well do you have another explanation for this then?" Peter asked her, crossing his arms.

Her gaze snapped to him and she scowled darkly, hands planted firmly on her bony hips.

Peter heard Susan scoff in his direction, "I'm sure this is all rather strange to you," Susan added practically, "and I know this must seem impossible what we're saying but Narnia is a different world only possible to enter by magic," Susan tried to explain rationally.

James Berrington's twin sister was still eyeing them all sceptically, her face pale beneath her freckles before twitching her lips she blew out a long breath, puffing her cheeks out.

"A magical other world you say?" she echoed looking to Susan and Lucy.

"Narnia," Edmund elaborated and her gaze snapped to him for a brief moment.

She visibly considered it for another minute in silence, ruminating over the unbelievable events of the past few minutes while the Pevensies waited with almost abated breath. Though none of them had any idea what they would do if the freckled girl refused to accept what they were telling her.

However she did seem to accept it as she dropped her defensive stance, "well I'm not quite sure my teachers will believe me when I tell them why I was absent," she mused aloud with a rueful grin.

"You won't have to explain it to them. You can spend years here and it will still be like not a second has passed back home," Edmund explained and her grin widened, her grey eyes brightening considerably.

"Well this doesn't sound too bad after all," she said rather cheerfully.

Lucy grinned and even Susan looked relieved.

"Well now that that's sorted…" Lucy trailed off mischievously, looking around at each of her siblings.

There was a brief wavering moment before with squeals of delight Lucy and Susan streaked from the cave, kicking off sensible school shoes and itchy cotton socks as they raced towards the blue surf, Edmund swiftly following.

However Peter hung back slightly as did she watching and chuckling at the sight of Susan and Lucy working together to bring their brother down into the surf though Edmund managed to reach out and tug Lucy down with him.

Lucy gave a brief shrill as the water rushed over her and Susan laughed brightly already beginning to wade away as fast as she could from her advancing siblings who were now thoroughly drenched.

"That water looks inviting," she said, looking to Peter curiously and expectantly as it was clear Peter wished to say something to her.

"Have you ever been to Narnia before?" he queried searching her face.

Her grey eyes widened as she snorted, "I thought it was obvious that I hadn't," she replied, "why would you ask me that?"

Peter frowned thoughtfully; in truth he didn't think she had been lying to them. It was why he had remained so silent while his brother and sisters explained Narnia to her; he had been watching her face carefully for any signs of deceit.

He knew he was most likely being paranoid but _never _before had tales of another human entering Narnia from their world been heard of; not during their long reign of the Golden Ages and before that Tumnus had thought Lucy a beardless dwarf, the sight of a human was so unheard of in Narnia!

His siblings evidently did not find the fact that James Berrington's twin sister was somehow standing here in Narnia with them now such a cause for concern as their excited yelps and hollers sounded still in the background.

But Peter was High King of Narnia he reminded himself as his spine straightened subconsciously and it was his job to make sure that Narnia wasn't being put at risk.

Granted the spindly girl with her baffled eyes looking at him currently didn't seem to pose much of a threat to Narnia but…all the same Peter had a duty to expend; to keep Narnia safe. He was a King and Kings had responsibilities, Peter thought resolutely feeling the weight of an entire kingdom settle on his shoulders once more.

"Very well then; if you say you haven't been to Narnia before I believe you," Peter intoned very superiorly, hoping that if she were lying she would feel suitably cowed at that moment to admit it.

But she evidently was not as she snorted again, rolling her eyes and walked away from him without another word.

Peter glared after her even as he shadowed her footsteps.

She gasped sharply, her eyes widening in wonder as they stepped out of the cool shade of the cave and into the sunny day's embrace. The blue sky stretched on above them and golden sands and turquoise waves stretched out below.

She gave an excited laugh and Peter couldn't help but grin as well as he decided to let his suspicions drop. He secretly admitted that most of his begrudging attitude towards James Berrington's twin sister being in Narnia was the very fact that she _was __James Berrington's twin sister _who had also landed him a rather hard punch recently.

"It's almost like a dream!" she gushed as she immediately hunkered down and began to tear at the sloppily done laces of her shoes.

Peter laughed lightly, "maybe you should pinch yourself to make sure it isn't," he teased before a split second later he yelped and leapt away from her, scowling as he rubbed at his shin.

"OW! – I said yourself – not me!" Peter cried as she straightened and grinned unapologetically at him.

"Well I know _I'm_ not a hallucination, I just wanted to make sure _you_ weren't," she told him innocently.

"PETER!"

Peter looked down to see Edmund waving wildly at him from the water just before Lucy got a hold around his shoulders and he fell down again.

She laughed at his side brightly, "it looks like your brother needs your help," she said grinning.

Peter laughed as well at the sight of crazed splashing where his three siblings where further down.

A thrum of excitement went through him as he started to kick off his shoes.

"How about this – I'll race you down to the water and – HEY!" Peter had only begun, his blue eyes bright before she had taken off like a shot.

"I'm winning!" she cried back over her shoulder, her red hair streaming out behind her like a banner.

And Peter took off after her.

She did win and she wasn't shy about announcing it victoriously as she crashed into the waves without preamble.

"You cheated," Peter told her resolutely but it was hard to remain even remotely stern when they were here in Narnia. But he did soak her by sending a wave of water in her direction with his arm for good measure.

Her hair suddenly wet fell over her face in a soaking curtain as she glared balefully out at him from between the tangled locks.

Then a dangerous smirk alighted on her lips and she lunged for him without warning.

The next short while was spent locked in watery battle with numerous side switching, thorough dunkings and giddy cries.

Despite the three younger Pevensies having only met James Berrington's twin sister barely that morning Narnia had a way of throwing the unlikeliest of people together; differences were forgotten, shyness overcome and soon Peter and Edmund were truly being thrashed by the girls.

"Ed get Lu!" Peter cried laughingly before he found himself drenched once more, courtesy of the other two girls.

Lucy gave a victorious cry as she caught her brother unawares but Edmund barely seemed to notice as his gaze was locked elsewhere.

"Ed?" Peter called, his tone coloured with slight concern, seeing his brother's evident distraction.

Edmund looked back at them before returning his gaze to the top of the white cliffs, "I don't remember any ruins in Narnia," he pondered aloud as they all stopped thrashing in the water.

And then all their gazes were drawn to the towering white structures of stone, half-fallen and weathered by time.

Even Berrington's sister despite not being able to comprehend the significance of what Edmund had said, could tell by the suddenly thoughtful looks on the others' faces that something had changed.

Peter pursed his lips, feeling a slightly worried twinge; he didn't remember any ruins either.

They clambered out of the water, Berrington's twin pushing back snarled crimson locks from her eyes.

They swiftly collected their discarded belongings from the beach.

Peter tossed Berrington's shoes to her as he jogged back up the beach, having volunteered to go and collect their things that they had abandoned further down near the cave.

She thanked him and tying the laces of the shoes together slung them over her shoulder casually. She peered up at the white cliffs, a hand raised to shield her eyes, "so how are we going to get up there?" she asked aloud.

"I'm sure there is somewhere we could climb up," Peter answered authoritatively, throwing a glance further down the beach that stretched for miles.

"Well I didn't think we would fly up," she teased lightly with a cheeky grin, "I meant where are we going to climb up?" she amended, ignoring the glare Peter sent her.

"Over here!"

Edmund's shout made all their heads snap around.

He was a little further down the beach. He waved once to them before gesturing back to the cliff as he disappeared behind a jutting rock face.

"What has he found now?" Susan pondered aloud as they all walked towards where Edmund had vanished moments before.

As they rounded the jutting rock they found Edmund waiting for them wearing a boyish grin as he had quite evidently found a way up.

Hewn into the white rock was a long flight of stairs; much worn and eroded by weather and the crashing waves but they looked stable enough.

"Nice work Ed," Peter said with a grin, electing himself to lead the way with Edmund bringing up the rear and the girls between.

Green swathing lines of thick vines hung low over the steps presenting a rather nasty opportunity for one to catch their foot and go plummeting over the edge.

Peter took his pocket knife out and cut the troublesome vines back as much as he could to clear a path for the others; his fingertips stained green by the time they had reached the top.

At the top of the flight of stone stairs it seemed that was where the creeper plant had sprung from as the wildest tangle of vines they had come across blocked their path rising above their heads, twisting around a great oak tree that was leaning precariously towards the edge of the cliff.

Peter flexing his grip on his pocket knife attacked the ropey curtain blocking their path with new vigour.

"I think I can see a pathway," after a few minutes Berrington's voice sounded from behind him, her breath brushing across his cheek as she peered over his shoulder.

Peter followed her line of sight and saw that she was right as he could make out the beginnings of a cobblestone path.

Susan gave a welcome sigh of relief and Lucy bounced eagerly on her toes; none of them were particularly keen on standing on this old and crumbling staircase.

"Just a few more vi – HEY!" Peter cried. He reached out a hand to stop her but it was too late; Berrington had scrambled past him and had crawled through the vines, her hair snagging on the thorns not that she seemed to notice.

Peter stared after her, practically agape as her head suddenly appeared in the gap she had just crawled through, a bright grin on her face that was now smudged with green stains, "come on then," she called before disappearing from sight once more.

"Peter – go!" Edmund urged from the back of the line.

Peter turned around sharply, "did you see what she just did?!" he exclaimed.

"She found a way for us to get through," Susan said exasperated, "now will you hurry up and follow!"

Pocketing his knife and with a frown firmly etched onto his face Peter crawled through the gap Berrington had just moments before.

He peered around him looking for a red head of hair to scold but he could see none, "great – now's she run off," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm sure she's fine – she seems like she can take care of herself," Susan said as she appeared at his shoulder, brushing off dirt from her knees and smoothing down her hair.

Lucy had barely gained her feet and looked around her when she gave a delighted cry, "apples!"

Peter and Susan looked over just as Edmund successfully climbed to his feet and they watched Lucy shoot off in the direction of the close-by boughs of green foliage that were spotted with red apples.

"Where is Berrington's twin off to now?" Edmund said, glancing around him as he said it.

"We can't keep calling her that!" Susan suddenly chided, checking the flame-haired girl wasn't in sight, "what _is _her name Peter?"

Peter rolled his eyes, fixing his gaze on Susan he opened his mouth and…blank. Peter frowned snapping his mouth shut audibly, "I don't know," he muttered incredulously.

How on earth had it gotten to this stage and he still didn't know her name?!

Susan and Edmund exchanged wide eyed stares.

"Well this is going to be awkward," Susan muttered reproachfully.

Peter scoffed lightly, before he cried, "No! Wait – I remember. I think one of her neighbours called her _Ella_?"

The sound of cheerful humming reached them and Lucy danced lightly over the cracked stones and tufty grass, munching on an apple. She looked up at her gathered siblings, "what's the matter?" she voiced.

"Lucy do you know what you call Berrington's twin?" Edmund asked.

"Of course, her sisters are in my class at school," Lucy answered casually, "her name's Prunella."

Edmund and Peter immediately broke out into laughter as Susan looked mildly horrified.

"_Prunella?_" Peter echoed.

A small smile tugged at Lucy's lips, "I think she prefers to go by Ella," Lucy said knowingly.

"I wonder why," Edmund snorted.

Susan tssked under her breath, "really you two!" she chided though she was pressing her lips into a tremulous line in the tell-tale sign of one trying very hard not to grin.

"Come on let's get some apples and try to find _Prunella_," Peter said with a grin as Lucy skipped ahead of them in the direction of the apple trees.

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><p>Thanks for all new favourites  & / follows!

And especial thanks to those that reviewed!

Amber and Ruby; Thanks! And here's that update – sorry about the delay!

Akantia; Thank-you for the review! I hope you continue to find it as interesting!

Bex; Thank-you! I hope you continue to enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

So as you may have noticed the title of this story has changed, along with the summary – slightly. It's not really a major thing, just as I was writing this chapter I found the original idea that I had in my head, morphed into something else until I felt the need to change the title etc. was necessary. Hope you all will still enjoy the story though!

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><p><span>Chapter Five;<span>

It had clearly once been a carefully tended orchard as the trees were planted in meticulously ordered rows. However it was now a wild bramble of a place with long reedy grass reaching to their knees. It made one's thoughts go irretrievably, and a little worriedly in Susan's case, to what may be lurking unseen within it.

However rumbling stomachs propelled them onwards and soon they all had a red juicy apple in their hand.

The ripest apples amongst the long grass turned out to be easier to find than James Berrington's twin sister; _Prunella_ as each of them headed off to explore the old ruins.

That was until Peter almost walked into her; or rather _half _of her.

"What _are_ you doing?" Peter exclaimed, scrambling back as he edged around her instead, his face one of mute shock.

She blinked once before grinning inanely at him from her upside down perch. She was hanging from a branch, her knees hooked over it, her damp red hair mingling with the green grass beneath her.

"Hello there," she called casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to come across someone dangling from a tree.

Peter folded his arms, a grin spreading across his face even as he shook his head at her, forgetting that he was still meant to be irked with her for dashing on ahead through the vines.

James Berrington's twin sister was as much a strange individual as her brother was a pretentious bully.

"I haven't done this since I was a little girl," she told him by way of explanation as a slight breeze ruffled the long grass until it seemed like an ocean of whispers was surrounding them..

"I see," Peter said, arching a brow. She didn't seem like she was inclined to come down anytime soon.

Peter turned his gaze drifting over the few chunks of white stone dotted about the grass. They were about the size of large boulders, and had evidently been a part of some grander structure. But now they were strewn about like a child had petulantly discarded his building blocks.

"So this Narnia then…" her voice sounded from beside him and he glanced back at her.

Her face was contemplative – thoughtful, though it was hard to decipher being as she was still dangling upside down.

Peter frowned suddenly at her; that same foreboding sense was still haunting him like an almost persistent stomach ache.

They had only arrived back in Narnia. This was meant to be the place where if there was a problem, _he_ would be able to solve it, and yet the wind whistling through the empty and crumbling arches in these ruins made him feel uneasy and he didn't know why.

_Prunella Berrington _was just another problem that he didn't know what to do with; especially when said girl was swinging from apple trees like a monkey.

Peter jumped slightly when she poked him, "are you listening to me?"

"No," Peter replied shortly and she scoffed and rolled her eyes, or at least that's what it looked like she did from his angle.

"I said what's Narnia like?" she repeated.

A smile ghosted across Peter's lips as he considered Prunella's question.

Narnia was a place where things like honour and valour could still be found in everyday life, engrained in people so naturally it was like a trait passed down along bloodlines such as blue eyes. Obnoxious bullies like James Berrington didn't exist here, or…if they did, Peter could more than happily make sure they stayed in order.

It wasn't that Peter abused his power; he never did that. But it give him a deep sense of purpose to know that he could protect the helpless, that he had real power to make a difference.

"Do you usually do that?" Her voice broke him from his thoughts as he glanced at her again.

"Do what?"

"Look off into the distance and ignore people when they ask you a question," she replied immediately, her tone utterly innocuous.

Peter frowned at her but all the same he apologised. "I'm sorry, I was distracted."

"Evidently," she murmured, grinning impishly up at him.

"Are you going to come down?" Peter asked her.

"Why?"

"Aren't you getting dizzy?"

"No. I find it quite relaxing."

"You find dangling upside down _relaxing_?"

"I find it gives me a whole new perspective on things. Yes, it really allows me to see things from a different angle."

Peter looked deadpan at her as she nudged him, snickering, "eh, eh? – Get it, _different angle_!"

Finally Peter relented, snorting as he ruffled his hair and looked down. "Your jokes are terrible."

"I know," she agreed happily. "At least I make jokes," she countered, poking him again.

"Hey!" he said stepping out of her reach, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well I don't know – you tell me! We arrive in a _magical world_ and rather than be utterly ecstatic about the whole thing you're moping about the place," she chided him. "Apart from that fun in the water you haven't stopped frowning since we reached here."

"I'm…" Peter trailed off. The truth was he was worried; worried about the ruins towering around him and what they could mean. He was eager to get back to how things were and yet a part of him was worried that maybe he had been away too long, maybe he didn't quite remember how to do things the Narnian way or how to rule and be a good king.

"Are you worried?"

Peter's gaze snapped to her, immediately alert, "No, I'm not worried," he refuted.

She hummed thoughtfully, "you look worried," she mused.

"You don't know me – " Peter began.

"Why do I have to know you to see you're worried?"

"Well you don't – "

"I know I don't. So – why are you worried?"

Peter was _worried_ now that Prunella could see he was worried. Peter frowned.

He was a king here and he couldn't show weakness.

The thing about Peter was the longer he had been away from Narnia an idea had built in his head in England. It started off with good intentions. The idea being, that when he returned to Narnia again, he would be an ever better king. He wouldn't make any of the foolish, finding his way mistakes he had the first time. He would be the _Magnificent_ King Peter for all his people to look up to.

There was admittedly a good deal of pride that fuelled Peter's decision. But ultimately being an elder sibling tasked by his mother to look after his family when they evacuated, had awoken in Peter a deep sense of duty. To protect those he considered needed it.

Peter simply wanted to be the best King he could be for Narnia.

And that led him to be his own harshest critic; demanding that he be able to decipher what the ruins meant when there was no real clues.

So admittedly yes – he was worried. But he didn't want Prunella to know that.

"I'm not worried," Peter stated resolutely, "I'm…" Peter scoured for something else to say that would explain his evident preoccupation.

"Are you searching for a word that means the same as worried but doesn't sound as bad?" she questioned lightly.

Peter blinked as he furrowed his brow helplessly. "Wh – no," he replied.

"Good – so you're worried. I'm glad we cleared that up."

Peter frowned at her, conceding that he was never going to win this _argument,_ if that was what it was he was involved in, with Prunella.

"I hardly think you can question my state of being when you're hanging upside down from a tree," he muttered under his breath as he leaned against the trunk, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She snorted, "where's your sense of adventure!? You were more fun we were water fighting – it's because you're worried now, isn't it?"

"Will you stop saying I'm worried please?" Peter forced out as calmly as he could, "I am getting a headache," he added for effect.

"That would be the worry causing headaches," she said innocently.

Peter scowled darkly at her, before he grinned a little mischievously. "Of course it is _Prunella_," he agreed amiably.

Peter jumped sharply in the next moment though, lunging just a little too late as Prunella fell directly from her swinging perch to the ground below with a huge thump.

"Prunella! Are you alright? – Prunella!"

He rushed to her side as she turned over groaning, wincing as she looked up at the sky, squinting.

"There is something big, dark, and annoying blotting out the sky…" she mused, looking directly at him, an impish light dancing in her slate grey eyes.

Peter rolled his eyes as he leaned back, "good to know you haven't got a concussion," he muttered sarcastically.

Prunella sat up swiftly, rubbing the back of her head with a wince and dislodging some long stems of green.

"Course not," she agreed jovially, looking up gauging the distance. "I've fell further than that before without getting a scratch," she announced proudly.

"I thought you did this all the time?" Peter said as he sat down across from her on the grass.

She snorted, "I said I hadn't done this since I was a little girl," she corrected, casually picking out another few green stalks from her hair.

They were sitting cross-legged in the long grass, the sun warm upon their faces and the sweet scent of apple blossom light in the fragrant air.

Peter couldn't help grinning as he felt his worry unintentionally abate. He shook his head laughingly.

_She had just fallen from a tree and carried on as if it were the most natural thing in the world!_

Peter bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing outright.

"What is it?" she looked at him curiously, a smile curving her lips, "what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," Peter assured her lightly as he shook his head. He was absolutely _certain_ that telling her he had never seen someone fall from a tree quite so unexpectedly, would be the wrong answer and not a very polite gentleman-like thing to say.

She poked him. Peter frowned. It seemed she had a habit of poking him until he answered her.

"Stop doing that," he mumbled.

"What this?" – She poked him again.

"Yes that."

Poke. "Does it annoy you when I do this?"

"You're doing this on purpose."

She rolled her eyes, "well how can else can you _accidentally _poke someone?"

Peter cast her a side-long glance.

"Unless of course you are pointing at something in the distance and then" Poke. "Oops, you see – accidental."

Peter looked hard at her.

"You're going to keep poking me until I tell you why I was laughing, aren't you?" he deduced wryly.

She grinned widely, as she looked to him expectantly.

Peter snorted as he shook his head unable to help grinning.

"Ah! – That's not fair, _again_! Why are you laughing?" she tilted her head to the side as Peter bent his head in laughter.

Peter grinned, "I've never seen someone fall from a tree quite like that," he confessed.

She leaned back, smirking even as her brows drew down sharply.

"That's just rude," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Oh?" he questioned, still grinning.

"You're meant to tell me you've never seen someone fall from a tree as gracefully as I did," she pontificated as she tilted her nose in the air.

Peter snorted, shaking his head again. "I'm not sure it's possible to gracefully fall from a tree."

"Well I didn't fall from a tree in any case. I just decided to have a speedy landing," she said airily.

Peter's expression was caught between laughing disbelief and utter perplexity.

"You're utterly hopeless Prunella," he mused.

"UGH! NO! That's why I fell from the tree in the first place!" she said, shoving his shoulder. "I'd rather be hopeless than that other…_thing_." She shuddered.

Peter smirked lightly, "what - _Prunella_?" he queried innocently.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Who uttered this blasphemy to you?" she growled menacingly.

"No one," Peter said breezily, "I just thought you _looked like a…Prunella."_

Prunella's eyes sharpened to flint points, "ooohhh," she hummed under her breath.

Peter arched a brow coolly as he looked to her questioningly.

"Ow! Stop poking me!"

"Accident – I was pointing to that apple tree behind your back." Prunella grinned.

"Fine you've made your point," Peter grumbled, rubbing his ribs discreetly.

"Several actually," she said wryly holding up her index finger for emphasis.

Peter rolled his eyes. "So – _Ella_ is it?" he asked.

"_Please_!" she emphasised as she nodded vigorously.

"Your name is horrible," Peter told her with a grin and laughing she shook her head, a heavy blush staining her cheeks.

"I know!" she moaned, dropping her head for a moment before she raised it to fix Peter with a candid look, arching a crimson brow.

"You know I find it quite insulting that you dragged me into a magical other world, tried to drown me and give me a concussion all without knowing my name."

"Give you a concussion – are you blaming me for you falling out of that tree!? - Besides you didn't exactly offer your name up."

"I guard my name like Jimmy guards his letters," Prunella replied, with narrowed eyes as she fought the rising grin.

Peter remembered the cause of one such rather brutal fight with James had been spurned by James accusing Peter of reading his post.

"Why is your brother so protective of his letters?" Peter quizzed curiously.

A smirk curled the corners of Prunella's lips until she looked downright devious.

"I imagine the letter was from our Aunt – she is the only one that would write to us. So I equally suspect she will have addressed it _properly _to Jimmy…I wasn't the only one blessed with such a _wonderful_ name," she elaborated, that same outrageous twinkle of mischief dancing in her eyes.

"What is your brother's name really?" Peter asked with a grin.

Prunella threw her head back and laughed heartily, "tell my twin brother's 'arch nemesis' his most fiercely guarded secret?!" she cried incredulous, "Jimmy'll kill me for sure," she sniggered.

"I will find out," Peter said confidently with a smirk.

Prunella scoffed, "I hardly think it likely," she replied.

"I found out your name," Peter countered.

She shook her head laughing, "that was different. I suspect one of your sisters told you my name."

"How did you know?" Peter asked, furrowing his brow.

Prunella chuckled, "I go to St. Finbar's as well. They can't have missed hearing my name called at register in grand assembly."

Prunella's eyes narrowed shrewdly as she looked at Peter.

"Why do you keep looking at me so strangely?" she accused, arching a brow.

"I don't, it's just…" Peter tried to unsuccessfully hide a grin behind his hand, "…here!"

Peter leaned forward to swipe the long reed of grass that had been nestled in Prunella's red hair, before holding it up as explanation, "you missed a piece."

"Oh," her cheeks pinked slightly as she eyed it before she shrugged carelessly, "I was actually wearing that," she corrected him airily.

Peter furrowed his brow at her, even as another grin slanted stubbornly across his lips.

"So…how big is Narnia?" she asked suddenly, casting her gaze about.

"Well, it's a proper country," Peter replied, "so rather big."

She whistled lowly, looking suitably impressed.

"You're taking this all rather well," Peter mused aloud as he looked at her.

She shrugged, endlessly unconcerned. "It's something my da taught me; not to fret too much about things we cannot change. He didn't specify what the correct response to finding yourself in a magical other world would be …but, I'm guessing it would be under things I cannot change and hence not fret about it." She grinned, as she propped her chin up in her palm.

Peter smiled, "your father seems like a very…wise man," he replied.

Prunella snorted. "I can almost hear him now in my head – he would probably say something like 'go off and enjoy yourself Ella!'" She laughed a little before her expression became a little dimmed.

She heaved a despondent sigh, tugging at a few tufts of grass by her side. Peter furrowed his brow, feeling a little guilty for pushing the topic when it so clearly upset Ella.

She looked up. "He's a soldier, at war," she explained, "I miss him," she added simply with a sad smile.

Peter gave her a sympathetic one back, "so's my dad."

"Yea?" she said, her expression brightening, "imagine they met somehow out wherever they are fighting at the moment and started having a conversation like you and I!"

Peter chuckled slightly, "the chances of that happening are phenomenal."

She frowned lightly, "why? – I would have thought the chances of finding myself in a magical world pretty phenomenal yet here I am. Or the chance that I would ever see you again, yet here we both are."

"Why did you think you would never see me again?"

"I did punch you. I normally don't stay in contact with people I punch – just as a general rule." She was grinning up at him again.

Peter shook his head hopelessly at her. "Your twin and I are in so many fights I suspect you must hear my name all the time. I know in my house my mother knows the name _James Berrington_ off by heart."

Ella chuckled ruefully, "you underestimate how many fights my brother gets in."

"And what about you? – Many fights? Do you punch every person that comes to your door looking for James?"

"No – you're my first."

"I'm honoured."

"You should be. I think you're face bruised my knuckles."

"I _know_ your knuckles bruised my jaw."

Ella winced sympathetically, eyeing the purling bruise again. "Does it hurt very much?"

"No, not really."

She snorted. "You're like Jimmy. Now are you only saying that to be manly or does it really not hurt?"

Peter rolled his eyes slightly. "It really doesn't hurt."

She eyed him suspiciously, "so if I were to poke it…"

Peter edged away from her as he eyed her warily. Ella merely laughed brightly in response.

"You're so strange," Peter murmured, furrowing his brow.

Ella stopped laughing immediately as she frowned at him.

"You're not very good at giving compliments, are you?" she intoned, arching a brow.

"I didn't mean it like that," Peter said apologetically as a slight flush rose to his cheeks. "I just meant that…compared to your twin you and James are – _entirely different._"

"A good different, I hope?!" she teased weakly, the smile on her face a little strained. She bit her lip, looking to Peter frankly.

"Jimmy wasn't always so…well - like he is now," Ella said shrugging helplessly.

Peter frowned slightly. If anyone had of asked him yesterday what he thought of James Berrington he would have told them that James was a malicious bully that preyed on people weaker than himself. Yet, there was a genuine look of sorrow in Ella's eyes that made Peter doubt his long-founded opinion.

"It's funny," Ella added, though her tone of voice was saddened. " – But I guess I miss Jimmy too, even though he hasn't gone anywhere."

"You can still miss a person even when they are standing right beside you," Peter said quietly, feeling suddenly uncomfortable as an unbidden memory rose up in his mind.

For a while now amongst Susan's stern admonishments and Edmund's silent, disapproving glances there had been Lucy's gentle words.

And it was the exact same thing Lucy would say to Peter that Ella had said to him now about her own brother.

_She missed him._

Peter would always tease Lucy when she said it, that he hadn't gone anywhere, he was _right there_.

"Well this just won't do!" Ella exclaimed, disturbing Peter's silent musings. He looked to her puzzled.

A mischievous twinkle alighted Ella's grey eyes then as she propped her chin up in her hand again, her fingertips drumming absently against her smirking lips.

"You had you're _worried_ expression on again," Ella informed him smugly.

Peter rolled his eyes, fighting the rising grin, "I'm worried for my peace of mind with you around," he replied.

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><p>Thanks to new favourites  & / follows and reviews!

Amber and Ruby; Always glad to hear you're enjoying the story!

Bex; Yea, Prunella isn't too keen on her name either :P Glad to hear you're enjoying the story!


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